Swimming out of the water
by fanficsofclare
Summary: What really happened at the pool side. Slight Dub/Con. Spoilers for the Great Game (season 1)


{what actually happened at the pool side}

There he was, in a green parkour, the edge of the pool. John Watson. No. He can't be Moriarty. Sherlock didn't believe it, didn't want to believe it. John, the only person he could be himself around, the only person he was beginning to care for. No, he couldn't be.

Then the situation worsened, Johns parting jacket revealing the real reason John was there. A walking explosive, a ticking bomb. Not John, please not John.

The door opened and a man walked out, wide eyes that suited a psychopath, a smug grin plastered over his face.

"Hello, Sherlock. I'm Moriarty. Ever so pleased to finally meet you. I would shake your hand, but I'm saving the physical contact for later. So-rry." His voice was like sickly honey, a creepy sing song undertone.

Sherlock raised his gun, pointing at Moriarty's head, finger over trigger, one movement away from ending this.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. No, you see, if you kill me, little Johnny will go bye bye." As he spoke in his childish voice, three red dots appeared on John, aiming for the lit up wires and explosives.

"What do you want, Moriarty?" Sherlock asked, not lowering the gun but not pulling the trigger either.

"I just want to be entertained. Normal people are so boooring." Moriarty rolled his eyes, hands in pockets.

"What do you want with John?" Sherlock asked, stepping forward.

"Don't move an inch darling. Stay there and let me come to you." The word darling hung uncomfortably in the air. Moriarty walked closer, eyes open like a loyal dog.

"Let John go. I'll do anything you want if you don't harm him." Sherlock said, not daring to look over at John, not ready to see the sad look on Johns face. John would always come first.

"But that's the problem, Sherly. If I let John go, I can't have what I want." Moriarty whined, spinning on his heel. "Maybe it would be easier, if I were to muddle your senses." He reached into his suit pocket, pulling out an object Sherlock recognised all too well.

"No!" John called out, speaking for the first time, drawing Moriartys full attention. "Please, don't inject him."

Moriarty smiled, walking over, the needle poised in his hand.  
"It's not for him, Johnny boy."

Sherlock moved to stop Moriarty, but Moriarty just shook his head. A red dot appeared on Johns forehead. One shot and John would be gone

"Don't move Sherly. I don't want to hurt your little pet before I get to have some fun." Moriarty gripped Johns arm, pushing the needle into his skin and letting the substance seep inside. Johns eyes squeezed shut, desperately trying to hide his pain from Moriarty.

Johns head was swimming, knees buckling and he hit the ground hard. He felt like he was drowning, like he was trapped in the pool, gasping for air that wasn't there. He was crippled over in pain, the substance searing through his bloodstream, marking and scratching into memory.

"What did you give him?!" Sherlock demanded to know, stepping towards Moriarty.

"An old favourite of yours... With a little extra something. Not only will he be high, but he'll be willing. I'm still deciding whether I should watch you two, or take him myself. He'll start begging for it soon." Moriarty grinned, looking at John greedily.

"Don't touch him!" Sherlock yelled over the deafening pound of blood I'm his ears. He felt trapped, if he moved to help John, they would be shot, but if he didn't move, god knows what Moriarty would do to him.

"Please, you don't have to involve him." Sherlock begged, watching helpless as Moriarty pulled the explosive parkour off of John, sliding it towards Sherlock. Then, his hands smoothed down Johns jumper, tugging at the hem an pulling over his shoulders. "I'll do anything you want."

"I was expecting John to beg, not you Sherly. Maybe I should have given the needle to you. Have you relapse and beg for me." As he spoke, he trailed a finger down Johns cheek and neck. "But seeing as I've given it to John, I'm going to put it to use."

John didn't pull back, relaxing completely into the touch. His lips parted and his eyes fluttered closed. And there it was, the bubbling feeling, the growing need for release. John needed it now and he needed if fast. He didn't care who it came from, he just wanted it. His mind was swimming in it. The finger trailing down his neck felt oh so good. A quiet moan escaped his mouth, breath coming out in short ragged clouds.

"Hear that, Sherlock. That almost silent beautiful noise that came from your Pet. I made him moan, look at him, he's enjoying this." Moriarty's hands crept down John's chest, dancing over his thighs. John moaned again, louder and bolder.

"No! Stop this!" Sherlock shouted, trying to keep the attention on himself.

"Jealous Sherlock?" Moriarty looked over, locking those manic eyes onto Sherlock.

"Extremely. How I do wish I was in Johns place. You've got a wonderful mind, Moriarty, I'd love to fuck you." Sherlock called out, trying to distract Moriarty from the vulnerable John.

"Please, call me Jim." He stood up walking over, thankfully leaving John behind. He walked circles around Sherlock, examining him from every angle. He reached out, hand wrapping tightly around Sherlocks neck.

"I could kill you, right here right now, then fuck your little pet over your dead body." Jim growled, his eyes flashing. "Do you think I'm stupid? Flattery won't stop me from fucking little Johnny. You just wish you had got there first. You love him don't you, Sherlock?" His grip tightened on Sherlocks neck, nails digging into skin, leaving crescent shaped marks. Sherlocks eyes widened, from a mixture of pain and pleasure. Jims eyes bored into Sherlocks, pulling the last gasp of air from his lips.

"You like this, don't you Sherlock? Being at my mercy. You get off on this, the idea of being controlled by me." Jim whispered, voice low and dark in his throat. Sherlock squirmed, trying to shake his head, but the idea was faltering. Maybe he did like it.

His fingers released from Sherlocks neck, dancing down his chest. Sherlock gulped in air, moving back from the fingers trailing down into uncharted territory.

"Don't tell me... You're a virgin? Never been touched?" Jims sticky sweet voice echoed in the dimly lit swimming pool. His wandering hands presses to his groin, squeezing down.  
"Now I wish I had given the aphrodisiac to you. I'd love to take your virginity. Maybe you won't need a stimulant, maybe I'll just turn you on without it." He sounded so sure of himself, sure he would get want he wanted. Sherlock was starting to think he would, his growing erection proved he might.

A moan from John snapped Sherlock back to his senses, pushing Jim off him. He looked over to John, who was writhing around against the wall. "I need you..." John gasped out, voice rough and shaky.

Jim pulled away from Sherlock, walking back to John. Sherlock tried to shout out, but his voice dried in his throat as Jim beckoned him over. He walked over, resting against the wall and panting hard.

"What do you want Johnny boy?" Jim purred in his ear, planting an open mouthed kiss on his cheek. John squirmed at the simple touch, eyes fluttering closed.

"Please, I want you to fuck me, please, Sherlock." He's head spun like mad but he knew that's what he wanted, what he's wanted for so long. His choice of words earned him a sharp slap to his left cheek, which caused him to whimper.

"You've trained him well Sherlock, you've never even touched him yet he's begging for you." Jim said, hand trailing down chest.

"Leave him alone, please." Sherlock stuttered, sliding down the wall. In his whole life he's never been so hard and it was torturous.

"Look at him, do you really think I could leave with him looking so debauched already?" Jim laughed, curling fingers on the hem of Johns jumper, pulling over his head and off.  
"Can you imagine how he will look when I'm finished with him?" Jim laughed, locking eyes with Sherlock.

There's an eery silence as no one dares to move or speak, the only sound is Johns raspy breaths. Then there's a loud noise, a song. Staying Alive echoes through the room, causing Jim to roll his eyes.

"Hello Seb." He said, answering his mobile phone. "Daddy's busy, with my new pet John." There's a distant voice that Sherlock can't quite hear.  
"What? That's not what I had ordered!" Jim suddenly yelled. "You better be lying to me, or I will turn you into shoes." He hung up, standing and walking out.  
"Au revoir boys, don't have too much fun without me. Until next time John." And with those words, he disappeared out the door.

"John, are you okay? Did he hurt you at all?" Sherlock shuffled over, hand lightly touching Johns reddening cheek, eliciting a soft moan from Johns parted lips.

"Sherlock please." John whimpered as Sherlock pulled back.

"No, I can't... We need to get you home." Sherlock handed Johns jumper over, who looked down in surprise.

"I want to... I need you to..." John stared down at the jumper in confusion.

"We need to go home, John. I promise I will when we get there." Sherlock said, standing and pulling John up.

John quickly put on the jumper, rushing out and hailing a taxi. Sherlock raced after him, worried John would begin begging strangers.

The taxi ride was long and silent. Johns thigh pressed against Sherlocks, not helping at all for the current situation. His hand moved over, sliding up Sherlock thigh, pulling away last second and smirking.

John threw money at the driver when they arrived and raced up stairs to Sherlocks bedroom, as it was closer than his. Sherlock took the stairs three at a time. When he got to his room John was laid out on the bed naked.

"Sherlock, please" John moaned, hand on his own erection. Sherlock walked over, John pulling him into a rough needy kiss. Sherlock reluctantly pulled away, lifting John, almost effortlessly, under the duvet, and planting a chaste kiss on his forehead.

"It will be over in the morning John." Sherlock said, slipping out of the room, closing the door behind him.


End file.
